Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

  “By yourself?”

  “Maybe,” I said, exasperated. “Or maybe not. I’ll have to see.”

  “Oh yeah? See about what?”

  “Again, not really your business, Daniel.”

  He stepped closer to me, and I caught the distinctive scent of his spicy soap and, well, “maleness.” While remaining completely in control on the surface, it was clear his emotions were boiling underneath. “What if I want it to be my business?”

  I wanted to back up a step, to put some distance between us. My senses were overwhelmed, with him so close, and I struggled to keep my breath even. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be so vague when you cancel last minute.”

  “I told you I might have to cancel plans at the last minute when we talked about being together. That’s just the way it is, dating a cop.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not talking about the fact that you had to cancel. I’m talking about how you communicated it. You gave me a vague excuse, with no options. I would have waited up for you. But you ghosted me.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t ghost you. I texted, too.”

  For a cop, he could really be obtuse. “I know you texted, but the point is, it feels like ghosting when you’re so vague. You didn’t mention when we might see each other again, even. And then, to make it all even worse, you show up here, at the bar.”

  He paused, mulling over what I had said. “Okay, so I see your point, about the ghosting. That doesn’t mean you should jump right into another date.”

  “I love Daphne, but she’s not my type.”

  He pressed his lips together, and I got the sense he was fighting the urge to reach out and shake me. A jolt of heat shot through my belly as memories of the last time I had pushed him rose up in my mind. “I’m not talking about Daphne,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, you mean JD?” I asked sweetly. “The person sitting on the other side of me? Daniel, just because I’m sitting with a group of people doesn’t mean I’m dating any of them.”

  “So, you’re not on a date?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’d think a cop would be more perceptive. Do I actually need to spell it out?”

  “This is cozy.” Startled, I glanced over Daniel’s shoulder to see JD lounging against the opposite wall. He grinned as he met my eyes. I wondered how much he had heard of our conversation.

  I glanced over at Daniel, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing, but he kept his face composed. “Did you need something?”

  His grin widened. “Nope. Just hitting the head, but I didn’t want to interrupt.” He lazily straightened himself, pushing off the wall, and ambled toward the bathroom. He made a point of brushing against me as he walked past. I hurriedly took a step back, shaking my arm, as if I could shake off the feel of him.

  He smirked at me over his shoulder. “Good seeing you again, Becca. Daniel.” He pushed open the bathroom door and disappeared inside.

  Next to me, Daniel clenched his fists. If I thought he looked angry before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now, which was about ready to explode. “I have to go,” I said. Suddenly, I wanted out, before JD reappeared.

  “Becca,” Daniel called out before I had barely taken a step. He reached out to touch my arm, freezing me in place. I was somehow hot and cold all at once, and it was all I could do to face him.

  “I meant it about rescheduling our date. Are you willing?” He had taken a step closer, and I could feel his breath hot against my neck, smelling of beer and desire.

  I paused to center myself, sucking in the thick, humid, alcohol-laced, perfumed air from the bar, trying to get my senses under control. “If you really mean it,” I said, forcing myself to focus on what I had to say, instead of on the emotions swirling underneath. “If you feel like it’s not going to compromise your position in this town to be seen with me, then yes, I’m willing. But, make sure you really want to do this, Daniel. Don’t start something you have no intention of finishing.”

  With that, I walked away.

  I didn’t look back, and he didn’t call me back.

  Chapter 3

  I was in the kitchen.

  It was dark, but the light of the moon shone through the window, turning everything a slivery grey. Something sparkled on the table, winking and glittering in the moonlight.

  “Becca,” said a voice, and I realized I wasn’t alone. Aunt Charlie, the one I had inherited my house from, was with me. “Sit,” she said, shifting so I could see her face across from me.

  “Did you know?” I demanded. “What happened to Jessica?”

  This was the first time I dreamed about Aunt Charlie since finding out the truth.

  She sighed, and seemed to age in front of me. “You had to remember yourself. It was the only way.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You could have told me.”

  “I know it seems like it ...”

  “Did you know when you were alive?” I asked. “Did you know and not tell me?”

  She gave me a look. “How could I have told you? You refused to have any contact with me after that night.”

  She had a point. But still.

  “You could have done something,” I said. “Written me a letter or ...”

  She raised her hands. “Becca, this really isn’t helpful.”

  I stood up quickly, so quickly I caused the table to jump, including whatever was on it that had been catching the light of the moon. “Did you know? Answer me.” Why was it so hard to get a straight answer?

  She paused. “I didn’t know,” she said softly. “Not for certain. I had my suspicions, but ... they were just suspicions.” She leaned across the table, her hazel-and-gold eyes meeting mine. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life,” she continued, her voice so low I had to strain to hear her. “A lot of mistakes. I have a lot of regrets. But maybe the biggest one is that you’re going to pay the price for my mistakes.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She sighed again. She appeared to be even older than she was just a few minutes before, now nearly ancient. She reached out a crooked, wrinkled hand to stroke the glittering thing sitting in the middle of the table, which I could finally make out as a polished, green stone.

  “You, Becca. You’re going to have to deal with the fallout of ...” she paused, her voice so quiet, it was nearly a whisper, “… the evil that was done.”

  The temperature in the room dropped. It was so cold, I could see the white puffs of my breath in the air. I tried to inhale deeply, but it felt like sharp little knives cutting and slicing and dicing my lungs.

  “What did you say?” I tried to form the words, but they came out in a gasp. I could feel liquid dripping down my chin. Was it blood?

  “You’re in danger,” Aunt Charlie said. “You need to protect yourself.”

  “Danger?” I rasped, barely able to speak. “What ...?”

  She pushed the stone over, her hand so curled up with age, it was practically useless. “It’s already started. I wish ... I wish I could stop it, but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” She reached out to grab my hand with one, wrinkled claw. “The evil that was done is here. It’s watching you. It wants you. You must be careful.”

  “I don’t ....”

  She squeezed my arm painfully, her fingers so icy cold, they burned. “Promise me, Becca.”

  “I ...” I had so many questions. What did she do? What was the evil? Why am I in danger? And from what?

  What was happening?

  Yet I couldn’t utter a word. My tongue felt thick and numb, frozen in my mouth.

  With her other hand, she pushed the polished stone toward me. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight, just like the stone. “Take this. For protection.”

  I looked down as she gave it a nudge, causing it to roll into my hand. “It’s a crystal,” Aunt C
harlie said. “Jade.”

  It, too, was freezing. I could feel the cold leeching through it into my body. I wondered if I would ever be warm again.

  “Promise me, Becca,” Aunt Charlie’s voice rose, sounding almost like a scream. “Promise me!”

  I awoke in bed, tangled in sweaty sheets. Oscar was curled up on the pillow next to me. For a moment, I was completely disoriented, my overloaded senses unable to discern between hot and cold. The curtain billowed out as a cool breeze filled the room. From the distance, I could hear the low rumble of approaching thunder.

  I untangled myself from my bed and went to the bathroom to splash some cool water on my face. I was still somehow both hot and sticky and freezing cold. I debated a shower, but worried about waking Mia and Chrissy.

  Instead, I wet a washcloth and did my best to give myself a sponge bath before changing into a clean night shirt. While I was at it, I stripped the bed and put on clean sheets. I almost crawled back into bed then—oh, how I wanted to try and sleep some more!—but I was wide awake. There would be no more sleep.

  What to do until daylight? Hide in my bedroom until the sun began to touch the darkness? Go downstairs and risk running into Aunt Charlie at the kitchen table, waiting for me again?

  I had just about decided to settle into the recliner chair next to the window to watch the sun come up when I thought about Chrissy. Before, whenever I had dreams about Aunt Charlie, I found Chrissy sleepwalking.

  That was enough to inspire me to check on her. Mia, too, while I was at it. It wouldn’t take but a few seconds, just to make sure.

  Oscar watched from the comfort of the bed as I eased the door open. I envied his ability to dreamlessly nap at will.

  The hallway was silent. Both bedroom doors were shut. It certainly looked like I was the only one up and about.

  I pushed the door open a little wider, thinking maybe I didn’t even need to walk down the hall, after all. I could just ease out far enough to make sure the doors really were closed.

  In that instant, two things seemed to happen at the same time.

  Oscar suddenly hissed, his ears back, every tooth bared.

  And the quiet click of a door closing floated up from downstairs.

  For a moment, I could only stand there, frozen in place, as fear crept its way down my neck and into my chest.

  Was someone in the house?

  I flashed back to the last time I had a nightmare, only to hear that same sound of a door clicking shut.

  Only that time, Oscar hadn’t reacted.

  I turned to look at him. He was standing on the bed, his fur raised.

  What did that mean? Was the sound I heard someone leaving the house?

  Or someone coming in?

  My breath caught in my throat, and I forced myself to slowly step into the hallway, knowing I might never be able to move again if I didn’t start right then. The last thing I wanted was to spend the rest of the night trapped in the doorway of my room like a terrified mouse, until Mia finally woke up.

  Mia! I could wake her up for backup.

  Or ... maybe she was the one downstairs. Or Chrissy.

  I glanced at Oscar again. He had never reacted like that to either of them before. Moving as slowly and carefully as I could, I tiptoed into the hall. Chrissy’s room was first, and her door was shut tight. I gently turned the doorknob and peered inside.

  A mound of covers lay on the bed. As I watched, they dipped up and down, in time with a light snore.

  I closed the door. Chrissy didn’t stir.

  I headed to Mia’s room and cracked open the door. Mia was lying flat on her back, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish, clearly sound asleep.

  Now what? I hesitated, half in, half out of her room. Should I wake her up, so she could help me search the house? But what if the house was empty? I’d not only feel like an idiot, but I’d feel bad for having woken her for no reason.

  Then again, what if someone WAS in the house, a little voice whispered inside me. Did I really want to take that chance?

  I thought about Oscar.

  He had never hissed before.

  I crossed the room and gently shook Mia. She jerked awake, her body flailing. “What is it? What? What?”

  “Hush,” I said, putting my hand over her mouth. I leaned down to put my lips close to her ear. “It’s just me. I think someone is in the house.”

  I saw Mia’s eyes go wide and I dropped my hand. “What?”

  “I heard something,” I mouthed. “Downstairs. And Oscar hissed.”

  “Oscar did what?”

  “He hissed.”

  She rubbed her eyes and slid out of bed. “Okay, wait a second,” she whispered. “I’m still half asleep. What did you hear exactly?”

  “A click.”

  She stared at me blankly. “A click?”

  “Like a door closing.”

  Her eyes widened again. “Oh. Got it. Anything else? Footsteps?”

  I shook my head, starting to feel a little foolish. “No. Nothing else. But Oscar ...” my voice trailed off, and I was starting to wish I had just gone down the stairs myself.

  “We have to check it out,” she said. “Did you call anyone?”

  That hadn’t even occurred to me. I shook my head again.

  She patted her cut-off sweatpants she wore as a sleep outfit as if she was searching for something. “Oh wait, I think my phone is on the downstairs charger. Where’s yours?”

  I had to think for a moment. “Downstairs, too. In my purse, I think.” I was pretty sure I hadn’t taken it out when I had gotten home from The Tipsy Cow.

  “Okay. We better go downstairs then. Do you have anything we can use as a weapon?”

  “The bat.” My aunt had kept a bat in the small room we used as a house office, although Mia had more or less taken it over as her own personal college study room.

  “Yes! Perfect. I’ll go get it.” She crept out of the room and came back brandishing the bat. “Do you think it would make more sense to call someone rather than go down? Should we see if Chrissy has her phone in her room?”

  “No,” I whispered. Chrissy still hadn’t completely recovered from everything that had happened to her since moving to Redemption. She needed all the sleep she could get. “Let’s not disturb her. There’s two of us. We’ll be okay.”

  Mia nodded and hefted the bat. “Good plan.”

  I moved to the doorway and peered out. All was quiet and still. I glanced back to Mia and gestured. “After you.”

  Her eyes widened. “I thought you were going first.”

  “You’re the one with the bat,” I said.

  She paused, frowning. “Okay, you have a point.” She stepped forward, glanced up and down the hallway, took a deep breath, and started creeping down the stairs.

  I trailed after her, watching her pause on each step to frantically search the area, like some B-rated cop movie detective. Oscar padded along behind me, contemplating both of us with his amused and sardonic gaze.

  Needless to say, it was slow going.

  It also gave me plenty of time to wonder if I had just imagined the click in the first place. Nothing appeared to be out of place. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

  Man, I hoped I hadn’t woken Mia up for nothing.

  But, if it was nothing, why had Oscar reacted that way?

  Finally, we made it all the way down the stairs and proceeded to creep around. We were halfway through the living room when I had the bright idea to start turning lights on, which startled Mia so badly, she nearly whacked me with the bat.

  “Easy there, cowgirl,” I said, ducking out of the way.

  She dropped the bat with a clatter and put her hand to her chest, breathing hard. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Yeah, I can tell,” I said, rubbing my own chest
. “Look, there’s no reason for us to be prowling around down here in the dark. Chrissy has her door shut, so we probably don’t have to worry about waking her.”

  Mia reached down to scoop up the bat. “I’m too old for this.”

  Together, we searched the rest of the downstairs while Oscar supervised from the bottom step. There was no sign of an intruder.

  “I’ll check the doors,” Mia said from the kitchen while I hovered in the doorway. I never liked going into the kitchen after one of my Aunt Charlie dreams, even with all the lights on.

  “Locked,” Mia said, leaning the bat against the wall. “Maybe you imagined it.”

  “Maybe,” I said, but I still wasn’t convinced. I knew I hadn’t imagined Oscar’s reaction, for sure.

  I moved to the window and peered out. All was still and quiet in the pre-dawn hours. Nothing looked out of place.

  Except ...

  Near the edge of the woods, I could almost make out a dark, man-shaped figure behind one of the trees.

  Watching.

  I blinked and tried to focus. Was I really seeing what I thought I was?

  “Mia,” I called out quietly. “I think there’s someone out there.”

  “You’re kidding.” She quickly joined me at the window. “Where?”

  “There. By the woods.” I pointed, but now, squinting my eyes, I was less sure.

  Mia pressed her face closer to the window. “I don’t see anything.”

  “It’s like a shadow. By the trees. At least,” I amended, “that’s what I thought it was.”

  Mia screwed up her face. “ I really don’t see anything.”

  Behind us, Oscar decided to saunter into the kitchen and make himself comfortable on one of the chairs. He settled in, his green eyes narrowing, and proceeded to clean himself, totally relaxed and at ease.

  I glanced at him and sighed. There was no sign of the hissing, on-edge cat I had seen in the bedroom.

  I rubbed the back of my neck and stepped back from the window. “You’re right. There’s nothing there.”

  “It’s pretty dark,” Mia said. “There could have been something there that I just couldn’t see.”